The accomplished Miss Juliet Carteret
by Sempre libera
Summary: Miss Juliet Carteret (daughter of the former Miss Bingley), an accomplished young lady of almost eighteen, is set on making an unexceptional match. She did not factor in meddling cousins, a boorish acquaintance, a wayward sister, and a ludicrous notion called love.
1. Most accomplished in the neighbourhood

Summary: Miss Juliet Carteret (daughter of the former Miss Bingley), an accomplished young lady of almost eighteen, is set on making an unexceptional match. She did not factor in meddling cousins, a boorish acquaintance, a wayward sister, and a ludicrous notion called love.

This story is set in the Odd Duck's Quest universe (next-gen), but can be read as a stand-alone.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jane Austen's genius. Only this plot is mine, along with a few original characters.

* * *

 ** _Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret_**

As I write these lines, Mother is parading Selina and Grace around town. She is determined that they shall be a success; and so are they, after respectively twenty-one and near twenty years of training to that effect.

They have received a thorough instruction in music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages. While not assiduous pupils, they have been taught enough to acquit themselves creditably when prevailed upon to exhibit, though by no fault of their own.

They also possess this ineffable yet unmistakable something in their air and manner of walking, in the tone of their voice, their address and expressions, through which they shall distinguish themselves as ladies of quality. We are _Carterets_ , by way of our father, whose ancient name gives us claims on the most eligible gentlemen who might be thrown in our way. Since this might be the only valuable thing Father has ever bestowed on us, Mother does not scruple to make the most of it. We are _Carterets_ ; so is she; she cannot recall a time when she was not a Carteret, and one might be forgiven for believing that her brother Mr. Charles Bingley had been acquired without her knowledge.

As the youngest, I must wait my turn. Three unmarried daughters cannot be out at once, Mother said definitely. I also suspect that she is not keen to flaunt my unfashionable red hair and dust of freckles across my nose and cheeks until my conventionally beautiful sisters have acquired a husband. She is mortified that the Bingley northern heritage should be reflected in my person. I might argue that the Carterets have Irish blood, but Father would never acknowledge his responsibility in transmitting such common looks.

However, I have no fear that when the time comes, I shall deal quite well. Selina may be elegant and Grace handsome, but I am the most accomplished.

I shall be visiting my Aunt and Uncle Bingley in the meantime. Being almost eighteen, I am quite out of the schoolroom and out in society. My sociable Uncle has promised that there would be enough visits and local assemblies for me to attend. I do not expect to derive much enjoyment from them; I can only hope that Selina and Grace will be swiftly and advantageously disposed of so that I might have my share of pleasures in London at the earliest convenience.

* * *

 ** _Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret_**

My Uncle and Aunt held a small dinner party tonight. They invited their most immediate neighbours. While I saw quickly that the rather provincial guests would not be likely to have refined tastes, I did not shy away from the pianoforte when our group of ladies was called upon to entertain. One should always seize upon any opportunity to exhibit; this makes for good practice for the future.

My misgivings proved to be correct. Nobody knew anything about music. Mediocre performances were as warmly applauded as the more superior one. I was positively vexed when a Miss Holford's simplistic reel was greeted with enthusiasm by the company.

Without anyone of discerning taste to be suitably awed by them, what is the point of accomplishments? Indiscriminate applause is intolerable. I am sorry to write that my Uncle was the most guilty of it.

"Upon my soul, Miss Carteret," Mr. Watson, a stout man of forty, called out after my song ended. "You must be the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood!"

I believe he was meaning to pay me a compliment; but from the state of the neighbourhood, this is not a feat I can boast of.

* * *

 ** _Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret_**

Cousin Caroline is my age and quite unlike her namesake, my mother. She is very liberal with her smiles- and displays the prized sweetness of temper and softness of heart any young lady should possess, or at least should pretend to.

I went with her and Aunt Jane to visit a friend of theirs who had just come out of confinement. We were expected to admire her new-born son. I do not understand why I am supposed to coo over infants. They are unfinished and hardly remarkable. When my opinion was asked for, I claimed that he had his father's nose. Both parents were exceedingly pleased with my answer, which had been half-given in jest, for it was not an attribute one ought to wish upon the innocent boy. It just comes to show that Mother is right when she says that people will believe anything as long as it is couched in flattering terms.

* * *

 ** _Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret_**

My Uncle, looking very pleased with himself, informed us that we would remove to his house in the Derbyshire that is happily situated within a few miles of Pemberley.

William, Henry and Edward, my younger cousins, expressed their pleasure at seeing again the Darcy cousins they were so much close to.

"There will be other young people in attendance," my Uncle went on. "This is a very fortunate time of the year for visiting family."

"Who are these young people, Uncle?" I asked.

"Darcy's cousins, from the Matlock and the Fitzwilliam side."

I tried to hide my interest and appear quite uninformed. I have never met them, but I am very knowledgeable on their genealogy.

Mother always made sure that her daughters knew everything about which acquaintances should be cultivated, which connexions could not be neglected, and which must be ignored entirely. My Uncle's friendship with Mr. Darcy, with its potential access to other prestigious connexions, was his only success she could not refute.

"His nephew, too- young Harding."

At my interrogating look, he explained:

"Darcy's sister is Mrs. Georgiana Harding."

Cousin Eliza, a twenty-year old harpy with sharp eyes, gave me a long, suspicious look. She distrusted all the Carterets equally. The dislike was mutual; I found her to be a very impertinent girl, who prided herself on being the wit of her family, which was akin to calling me the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood. My Uncle, my Aunt and her siblings are so well-disposed towards anyone that she only has to display some scepticism regarding the inherent goodness of perfect strangers to be thought sagacious.

"My nephew Samuel may come with Mr. Harding- both are neighbours in the Northamptonshire," Aunt Jane added.

Mother had been less exhaustive on that point; the matches and offspring of the other Bennet sisters- "these conniving Bennets"- remained something of a sore point. Talking of the Darcys usually left her ill-tempered enough.

Mr. Harding, the Earl of Matlock's sons, the Fitzwilliams: I might meet them in Derbyshire. I must be prepared to make the very best first impression.

There is no such thing as a simple family visit. My whole future might depend on it.

* * *

 _-this will probably a rather short romp, told mostly through Juliet's diary entries._ _I hope you'll enjoy her voice- although she might not be your usual charming heroine ^^_

 _-feedback, comments, suggestions... are what keeps this author happy :)  
_


	2. Well-regulated sensibility

**Summary** : Miss Juliet Carteret (daughter of the former Miss Bingley), an accomplished young lady of almost eighteen, is set on making an unexceptional match. She did not factor in meddling cousins, a boorish acquaintance, a wayward sister, and a ludicrous notion called love.

This story is set in the Odd Duck's Quest universe (next-gen), but can be read as a stand-alone.

 **Disclaimer** : Everything belongs to Jane Austen's genius. Only this plot is mine, along with a few original characters.

Thank you so much for the kind reception of the first chapter! I'll answer to the reviewws by the end of the week on the forum.

Hope you'll enjoy what comes next!

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

We are in Derbyshire at last. My Uncle has commented at length on the beauty of the landscapes, to end up singing the praises of the Darcy's ancestral home: Pemberley.

I have never set foot in Pemberley, although I have heard much about it. Any majestic estate has Mother's favour; and since my Uncle is easily impressed, I expect nothing beyond a well-manicured park and a gallery of paintings depicting the wealth and greatness of the Darcys' forebears.

On another point, I suspect that my Aunt and Uncle must be shamelessly cheated by their servants. I do not know where the cook procured those _potatoes_ , but the apricot pie we had for dessert clearly was not made with Moor Park apricot as advertised. The lack of discernment censured by Mother sadly appears to have affected even their palate.

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

I visited Pemberley today.

I might have been too hasty in dismissing it in my earlier entries. It is indeed an impressive piece of architecture. Its reputation appears to bring visitors every so often- we crossed the path of a duly overwhelmed group shepherded by the housekeeper, who was tasked to give them a tour of the place.

I was presented to Mrs. Darcy. I curtsied and complimented her on Pemberley.

An unsettling twinkle appeared in her eye when I mentioned Mother's oft expressed raptures. She replied that Mrs. Carteret's appreciation for the delights of Pemberley was beyond question. I sensed a joke I did not understand and felt quite cross.

My filial affection may be sorely tested at times, but the Carterets are not to be laughed at. We are usually the ones who do the sneering.

Her elder sons came to greet their Uncle and Aunt and I was aware of being subjected to the scrutiny of Mrs. Darcy and Cousin Eliza as I greeted them.

I hazard that Mother might have been too vocal in her admiration of Pemberley. Mrs. Darcy and Eliza probably entertain the suspicion that I have designs on its rightful heir.

They need not be alarmed; I should not want to be mistress of Pemberley. While I should have been very proficient in the managing of the servants if I had ever learnt, I hardly wish for such an army under my command.

Besides, I would not care to entertain any wandering soul that should wish for a tour of this grand estate. To admit strangers into the intimacy of my home! I should not think so!

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

I never put myself first when ladies are called upon to entertain the company at the pianoforte. It would be very unseemly, for one thing, and shockingly immodest.

It also provides me with an opportunity to study the competition, select my choice of song in consequence, and discredit every self-proclaimed accomplished player in the vicinity.

It was with anticipated triumph that I began an Italian song when my turn came to delight my Uncle's guests. The evening had been quite simple and unaffected, positively _rustic_ in some ways; but we were fortunate enough to receive only relatives and a few neighbouring families. I could claim without blushing that allowances must be made within the family circle.

I was feeling quite confident in my abilities to elevate the standing of elegance in the room. Among my array of talents, singing is the one accomplishment which makes me shine. I have a good ear for music; I know how to modulate my voice. I can be on pitch even as I'm singing a cappella. I master the harmony as well as the counterpoint.

"This was impressive; quite impressive," Mr. Harding smiled at me.

I lowered my eyes and demurred politely. Of course I was impressive. One does not practice several hours a day to rate a mere "tolerable".

I joined Caroline, who complimented me warmly. The evening did not end on such a high point, to my disappointment. The other young people called for an impromptu dance. My too indulgent Aunt did not object to the prompt removal of the living room's carpets; someone played the opening notes of a jig.

I ducked behind a potted plant in an obscure corner, intent on avoiding any invitation to dance. A Miss Carteret never lets herself run wild, even in the midst of a family gathering. Besides, physical exertion does not agree with me. On my complexion a blush is not becoming. As Selina puts it, I look like a ripe tomato, or in the words of Mother: "pallor is elegant; to blush is the mark of a vulgar and common mind."

Two gentlemen came to stand near my corner. They did not notice me; their backs were turned. From the top of his fair hair I recognized Mr. Felix Harding, nephew to Mr. Darcy; an amiable gentleman of three or four and twenty. The other gentleman I barely recalled, although my Uncle had probably introduced him to me a few hours ago.

"Aren't you glad I convinced you to go to the Derbyshire with me?" Mr. Harding began. "Such a delightful evening we are spending, in amiable company!"

"I wish we could retire for the night. I have no interest in dancing- and the conversation is sorely wanting."

"I know society does not agree with you, but it is a small price to pay for access to the Pemberley library, isn't it?"

"I came to the Derbyshire to pay my respects to my Aunts and Uncles," was the stiff reply. "I would have done so even without the lure of their library."

"It was not my intent to insult your feelings of dutiful nephew. You could engage more with the present company, however. You only spoke to the people you were already acquainted with. One might be led to believe that you do not enjoy yourself."

"I own that I would rather be reading a good book."

"Come, Bertram, don't be such a curmudgeon! As a lover of music, you must have enjoyed Miss Carteret's performance at least!"

"Her range is good, and her voice not entirely uninteresting. More's the pity that her performance was so _lacking_!"

I shot my darkest glare at the back of this so-called gentleman with neither taste nor genius.

"You are unfair to the lady," Mr. Harding began.

"Why aren't you dancing, Harding? You claim that you are in want of a wife – little beauty, a few smiles and compliments, and you should be lost, those were your exact words- shouldn't you be taking advantage of this evening's entertainments? It is after all a truth universally acknowledged that dancing is a shortcut to matrimony."

Mother would have been interested in such information. However, it would _not_ do for _me_.

Mr. Harding was too blond and I was partial to dark-haired gentlemen. His availability did not endear him to me either; he spoke as though any lady would do. I would be wasted on him. If anyone would do, what was the point of being the most accomplished among the Misses Carteret?

I deserve to be singled out by a gentleman for whom _only_ Juliet Carteret would do.

With a shake of the head, Mr. Harding joined the dancers, while Mr. Bertram walked away from his spot, and away from me. Good riddance!

I hoped that the evening would come to an end, but the dancers were determined to make the most of it. Cousin Caroline realized that I was not partaking in the entertainment and in a misguided albeit thoughtful display, she sought to partner me despite my objections.

"Samuel! Mr. Harding!" she called out.

I recognized the fair Mr. Harding and set eyes on my detractor. I was pleased to notice that his features were rather plain and dull; his dress stark; and his countenance devoid of the natural distinction of his companions.

Caroline introduced us; I was shocked to learn that Mr. Bertram was her cousin. I vaguely recalled Mother saying that a plain and bookish Miss Bennet has married some country squire in the Northamptonshire. This accounted for his unsophistication and general inability to recognize true elegance.

"I would be so very pleased to see two of my favourite Cousins dancing together," Caroline went on to my dismay. "Samuel, you won't refuse such a charming partner, will you?"

"I would be a very tedious partner, I am afraid," Mr. Bertram said coldly; "Mr. Harding, however, is a very skilled dancer. Miss Carteret would be in better hands with him."

I saw Mr. Harding ready himself to ask me to dance and I replied quickly:

"I thank Mr. Bertram for his concern. I understand his reluctance perfectly. We are all called upon to perform these social graces, like dancing, that are the basis for a civilised society. Some performances, like Mr. Harding's, I presume, will satisfy anyone; _others_ ," I stressed meaningfully, "will be found _lacking_."

Mr. Bertram coloured. I hoped I had shamed him; but he looked me in the eye and said:

"I understand, Miss Carteret, that you overheard my assessment of your musical performance."

"I did indeed," I expected apologies which did not come.

"I have nothing to add to the matter. You heard me express my opinion; it remains unchanged."

"You persist in calling my performance lacking? And what, pray, did it lack? " I asked in disbelief.

That he should be so rude, publicly, in front of all of us! Mr. Harding coughed meaningfully; but this hint was lost on his boorish friend.

"Samuel!" Caroline looked aghast.

"Your performance, while technically sound, lacked sensibility. There was a want of delicacy- a want of feelings- perhaps," he said magnanimously, "due to a weak understanding of the Italian words…"

I flushed hotly:

"I speak fluently Italian, French and German! And as for my lack of sensibility, I shall have you know, Sir, that a lady is expected to keep her sensibility under regulation. It is a mark of good breeding, which apparently is also lacking in some parts of the Northamptonshire!"

Caroline made a distressed sound; Mr. Harding looked equal parts horrified and fascinated.

Mr. Bertram and I ignored them.

"Indeed, I must commend you on your sensibility, Miss Carteret; it is so well-regulated that it appears inexistent!"

"Your lack of the most elementary civility astounds me, Mr. Bertram!'

"You do not care for civility, Miss Carteret; I believe you would have been satisfied with the mere appearance of civility. You did not wish for my honest opinion; you expected empty flattery."

"Of course _your_ opinion could not be flattering. But you are wrong; I did not expect compliments, only my due as a lady and as a musician. A gentleman would have understood the distinction."

His grey eyes flashed indignantly:

"I was raised to believe that honesty trumps false civility, and that a true scholar, a true lover of one's craft, should always strive for improvement."

To suggest that my singing required improvement! Oh, the conceit!

"I always thought," he went on, "that there is meanness in the arts which are employed by insincere players who flout their technical skills to ridicule less accomplished musicians."

"Indeed, there is meanness in all the arts employed to recommend oneself, for instance by pretending superior knowledge in music and undervaluing genuinely talented players."

At this point we were both hastily led away from the other by our friends.

This is an unfortunate acquaintance _I_ shall not be taking any pains to cultivate.

* * *

 _-as usual, your feedback is always very much welcome :)  
_


	3. Sorely tried temper

**Summary** : Miss Juliet Carteret (daughter of the former Miss Bingley), an accomplished young lady of almost eighteen, is set on making an unexceptional match. She did not factor in meddling cousins, a boorish acquaintance, a wayward sister, and a ludicrous notion called love.

This story is set in the Odd Duck's Quest universe (next-gen), but can be read as a stand-alone.

 **Disclaimer** : Everything belongs to Jane Austen's genius. Only this plot is mine, along with a few original characters.

 _Sorry for the long delay. Hope you'll like what comes next!_

 _Thank you for the lovely reviews, I'll answer them next week on the forum._

* * *

 ** _Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret_**

I went to town with my Aunt and Cousin Caroline today. Cousin Eliza, in a fit of independence, decided to take a walk by herself. I expected either my Aunt or my Uncle to oppose this display of bad manners; not that I wished for the company of my cousin, but to let her roam the countryside unchaperoned was not to be borne!

To my amazement, I learnt that Cousin Eliza was quite used to taking these liberties with the blessing of her parents. Mother had warned me not to be swayed by the provincial mores, but I hardly suspected that I should exercise caution under the roof of my own connections, my Aunt and my Uncle themselves, who ought to know better! I thought of voicing tactfully my misgivings; but since the tactful part left a lot to be desired, I chose to remain silent in front of my relatives and hosts. I hoped fervently that Cousin Eliza would not make a spectacle of herself that would injure the reputation of the rest of us.

Sadly my trials did not end there. My Aunt was approached in town by a Mrs. Pratt, who proceeded to compliment all of us on our good looks and healthy complexions, (for all the world as though we were horses!), dispensing extravagant flatteries that made me cringe as it was obvious to me that the woman was angling for an invitation to associate frequently with my Aunt.

Mother was right. Social climbers are shameless creatures. We left Aunt Jane to the mercy of the garrulous Mrs. Pratt and went to the millinery shop. I had to satisfy myself with a look of longing at a charming bonnet, as my allowance had not yet come.

We went out and walked a little when we came face to face with the dreadful Mr. Bertram.

At Caroline's exclamation, he glanced up from the newly purchased book he was engrossed in and couldn't suppress his look of displeasure. Reluctantly, he closed the thin volume and made his bow. I curtsied and tried to look down on him disdainfully, but it was a difficult task since he was rather taller than me.

"Dear Samuel, and you, dearest Juliet, I know that there was a misunderstanding between you, but I insist that you forget the incident and make friends!" Caroline said brightly.

Did Caroline not realize that there was no misunderstanding between the two of us? Nothing could be clearer than Mr. Bertram's opinion of me; and part of me whispered that the crux of the issue was not that he had misunderstood me, but rather that he had understood me too well.

"Samuel did not mean what he said about your performance."

"Excuse me," Mr. Bertram replied pointedly, "I never say a thing if I do not mean it. If Miss Carteret took offence at what I said, it is most certainly because she caught my meaning."

"Indeed, Caroline," I added, "our mutual understanding is at the root of our quarrel. Mr. Bertram must know how to act as a gentleman, but he refused to behave like one; hence our disagreement. Maybe it is for the best; for indeed, those who openly scorn the rules are the very ones who should perform them very poorly."

"A gentleman!" Mr. Bertram scoffed. "I would rather be an honest man than one of your false gentlemen. I refused to pay you the compliment that you expected; it was a blow to your vanity, but your confidence in your skills should help you make a quick recovery. "

"But surely Samuel," Caroline objected, "it is not wrong to compromise, to soften your stance to avoid any injury to someone's feelings."

I shook my head:

"Oh Caroline, don't you understand? Mr. Bertram has neatly crushed any scruples he might have felt, since he does not believe that his victims have any delicacy of feelings left to be bruised by his honest opinion."

"Tell me, Miss Carteret, did you object to the nature of my opinion, or to my expressing it?"

"Why, Mr. Bertram, I do object to both, as you were wrong on all counts! And pray, sir, who made you the arbiter of good taste?"

"I do not pretend to be the arbiter of good taste," he said impatiently, "but I believe it is not only my right but also my duty to keep my integrity."

"At the detriment of common courtesy?" I prodded.

"Samuel, why don't you just apologize to Juliet?" Caroline asked desperately, eager to see peace restored.

"I have no objection to apologizing when I'm in the wrong," Mr. Bertram said sententiously. "However, as I do not believe that the present situation calls for it, I shall not do so."

"As I would never condescend to accept such paltry, _insincere_ apologies, this is no great loss to me, Mr. Bertram," I smiled sweetly.

"Indeed, you would sooner accept _insincere_ compliments, Miss Carteret," he retorted.

"If I understand, both of you are in agreement…that you disagree," Caroline looked a bit disoriented. Her face brightened: "Can we take it that you do agree on something then?"

Mr. Bertram and I exchanged a glance of confusion, united for a brief moment in our common disbelief in such undeterred optimism, before we recollected ourselves and hurried away from the other.

* * *

 ** _Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret_**

I received news from my sisters today. Selina is equal to herself and lords her superiority over me with detailed descriptions of the sights, the assemblies, the new titled and rich acquaintances she has made. Grace has promised to send me the latest fashion plates and regrets that the balls and other engagements to dine are so frequent that she can barely enjoys herself. On Selina's part I would suspect some derision; but I do not doubt that Grace really finds her season trying.

Furthermore, Mother has set high hopes on her in the matrimony race, for Grace is the beauty of the family and past experience of the follies committed by impetuous youths in a severe attack of calf-love gives her strong hopes that one of these creatures could be taken in by Grace's radiant looks.

How ironic that we should hope for a gentleman to behave as foolishly as Uncle Bingley did. I suppose, of course, that this change of perspective depends on whose side is doing the ensnaring.

I do not know how Grace feels about Mother's ambitions. Grace is docile, while Mother berates me for my temper and tolerates Selina's because she is her favourite, although Grace is a close second for having the good sense to be born beautiful, which almost makes up for the fact that she is the least accomplished among us.

It is as though Nature, foreseeing it had been somewhat hasty on the chapter of Wits, decided to make amends by bestowing on Grace more than her fair share of Looks. It is impossible to make Grace look anything but graceful. Selina even tried to dress her in orange (only Mother believes the colour can flatter the complexion), to no avail.

Mother sent me a short letter as well. She can already boast of a small triumph, having overheard well-connected gentlemen call Grace as a "diamond of the first water." I am more circumspect. These gentlemen may have a healthy admiration for diamonds, but I wager that they might have a healthier appreciation for gold in the family coffers.

* * *

 ** _Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret_**

Something must be done about my cousins. Cousin Eliza I am giving up as a lost cause, but I might offer some judicious advice to Caroline. I have noticed that she is too prone to smiling widely and indiscriminately, much like her parents. This will not do. It might confuse her potential suitors, or lead them to think that she is easy to please- which might be the truth, but it would be their gain and not hers, so she ought to hide it as much as possible. If she is easily won, she might gain a reputation for being fast; if she has publicly shown her interest, believing it to be paid in return, she might be humiliated if she is jilted.

I sometimes wonder if the gentlemen are aware of all the trials that come with being a lady of marriageable age.


	4. Interlude-parental woes

**Summary** : Miss Juliet Carteret (daughter of the former Miss Bingley), an accomplished young lady of almost eighteen, is set on making an unexceptional match. She did not factor in meddling cousins, a boorish acquaintance, a wayward sister, and a ludicrous notion called love.

This story is set in the Odd Duck's Quest universe (next-gen), but can be read as a stand-alone.

 **Disclaimer** : Everything belongs to Jane Austen's genius. Only this plot is mine, along with a few original characters.

 _Thanks to the people who left comments! Hope you'll enjoy this little interlude... (which is also a wink at the readers of the Odd Duck's Quest)_

* * *

Sir Thomas Bertram wondered how his son was faring in the Derbyshire.

Mrs Bingley's latest letter contained nothing but praises of Samuel; but he knew his gentle sister-in-law too well to trust entirely her account. A horde of wild nephews could descend _en masse_ on her house, without any invitation; drink all her best wine and shoot her husband's pheasants, and she still would find them to be delightful guests.

At least on this point Samuel was irreproachable. He had never shown any inclination to act like a wild youth; unlike Sir Thomas, who had been somewhat dissipated at the same age and was now finding himself the proud, if slightly bemused, father of a bookworm.

He had only himself to blame, he thought with a wry smile; when one had married the former Miss Mary Bennet, one could not affect surprise if the union resulted in an overly intellectual offspring. He did love his son dearly and could rely on him to provide endless sources of entertainment; but he was now beginning to see that freedom of speech, liberally encouraged under his roof, might reach its limits outside Mansfield Park. He and his wife had raised honest children, with a strong moral fiber; but he must now admit that their social graces could be found wanting on occasion.

"Samuel has formed a resolute distaste for what he perceives to be worldly artifice- and he voices it too eloquently to uphold the peace," he told Mary. "This is the enthusiasm of youth, I suppose- time shall mellow him."

Mary protested – their son had integrity- she saw nothing wrong with the views he held. He might stumble along the way, but surely he knew how to behave in society.

"Among us, here in Mansfield, within the circle of family and friends, he is much more personable; but it has come to my attention that he performs quite poorly to strangers."

She eyed him with suspicion:

"Was this the reason behind your insistence that he should go to Derbyshire with Felix Harding?"

"Indeed; his manners can only improve in the company of our perfectly amiable Harding. I suspected I had only to display the lure of the Pemberley library to convince him that a visit to his Aunt was a capital idea."

"His expectations might be disappointed after the high praises you sang," his wife observed. "I believe that we have nothing to be ashamed of; I have spent a great deal of time on our catalogue- indeed, our family library is far from being neglected."

Lady Bertram had Strong Opinions on libraries- and Strong Opinions in general. So did Samuel; and Sir Thomas hoped that someone would end up finding it as endearing as he did.

"Indeed, I am quite certain that our library can very well rival Pemberley's; and I shall always cherish it, for the invaluable help it procured me in securing your hand."

Mary blushed a little:

"This was not your best feature, though," she said- a look passed between them, filled with the understanding that was born of some twenty years of union- and they went back to the subject of their children.

"I have noticed a worrying tendency in Samuel of late," Sir Thomas said; "that is, when left unsupervised for too long, he reverts to the most insufferable version of himself: a pompous, pedantic boy. We must hope that if he finds flaws with what he sees, he'll stew in judgmental and disapproving silence. This way, he might be mistaken for a reserved young man; but I fear all shall be lost if he ever regales the assembly with his thoughts."

"You are quite melodramatic," Lady Bertram replied; "I still fail to see the harm in exerting one's judgment, although I grant you that Samuel could learn to compromise. Cassandra, however, cannot be taxed with these flaws. _Her_ behaviour in society you cannot criticize."

"Our daughter, in essentials, is very much the same as her brother; she sets high standards for others, and higher for herself. Indeed I believe her temper to be even more unyielding; but she hides it a little better, as ladies are wont to do. "

Sir Thomas laughed, recalling the mention of future assemblies by Mrs Bingley:

"Poor Samuel! To be forced to attend assemblies where he knows so few people! I wager that he will not be a success with the young ladies."

His wife looked guilelessly at him:

"It matters very little, as long as he is a success with the right one."

Lady Bertram, Sir Thomas reflected, while not as shrewd in matters of love as her husband, could always be counted upon to get to the heart of the matter.

* * *

 _-hope you enjoyed this other POV on Samuel Bertram!_

 _-as usual, your feedback is much welcome!_

 _-next chapter: what happens at the assembly..._


	5. Drafty corners

**Summary** : Miss Juliet Carteret (daughter of the former Miss Bingley), an accomplished young lady of almost eighteen, is set on making an unexceptional match. She did not factor in meddling cousins, a boorish acquaintance, a wayward sister, and a ludicrous notion called love.

This story is set in the Odd Duck's Quest universe (next-gen), but can be read as a stand-alone.

 **Disclaimer** : Everything belongs to Jane Austen's genius. Only this plot is mine, along with a few original characters. Also, in this chapter: nods to _Emma_ , things I lifted from _the Watsons_ , and for a change of scenery: a wink at Dirty Dancing, because the temptation was too strong.

Thanks to the lovely reviewers! I hope you'll enjoy this.

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

I shall go to the assembly with my cousins. I do not, however, share their enthusiasm.

We would be safer from unfortunate acquaintances if this were a private ball. An assembly is far less discriminating; one runs the risk of being introduced to people one does not care to be introduced to, as the most dangerous intimacy is encouraged at those events.

I do not expect to be dancing very much; and I shall trust that the sight of my icy countenance will keep unwelcome partners at bay.

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

Distressful news have reached me. The Matlocks, and the Fitzwilliams- gone! Gone, I suspect, to more fashionable places, and who could blame them? I could not even catch a glimpse of them. Now we should be truly bereft of elegant society.

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

I am not fond of children as a rule, and my young cousins are no exception. They are too loud and rambunctious. They do not know how to sit still

Henry, perhaps, I like better. He is a quiet, diffident boy; and he has already shown great promise, by listening most attentively to my practicing at the pianoforte, which must account for his good taste. I am saddened to report that his siblings grow impatient when in the vicinity of my practicing scales.

"Hasn't it been long enough?" Edward asked, quite impertinently might I add, the other day.

"One cannot hasten perfection, my dear cousin," I answered and to his disgruntlement, I went on singing without interruption until the time came to partake in a luncheon.

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

O fortunate turn of fate! We might have to make do without the Matlocks and the Fitzwilliams, but there are other people of distinction to meet.

A Lord Osborne, in the company of his friend Mr Musgrave, is to attend the assembly. We have not been introduced yet, but I was able to spy him from a distance in town today; and what I saw I approved of. His stature is quite promising; this is an acquaintance I shall be eager to make.

Lord Osborne is the picture of the perfect gentleman as Mother has often described it: tall, dark, with a proud and noble mien. (I confess that I have often wondered at her ideal, since Father is fair and not more than five foot eight; but let us not look too closely at her strangely thorough description. Mother must be credited with a large imagination, and no more shall be said on the subject.)

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

I have arranged my hair in a becoming manner and dressed with particular care. So has young Henry, for the matter; it seems that he has been promised the first set by a Miss Wilcox, whom he admires very much. He is twelve year old, so I believe him in no danger and shall refrain from commenting on his eagerness to dance. Showing such decided partiality is not at all the thing, but he is young enough to learn prudence as he'll grow older.

* * *

 _ **Extracts from the diary of Miss Juliet Carteret**_

We entered the room in reasonably high spirits. I must confess to some amusement as I caught sight of Mr Bertram, looking very much put out next to the congenial Mr Harding.

"Miss Wilcox," Mr Harding said to a young lady in yellow; "may I have the pleasure of the second set? I am engaged for the first one already; but I am sure my friend here," he nodded pleasantly at Mr Bertram, "will not let a lady sit out the first set. This would be most ungallant."

"Far from me," Mr Bertram gritted out, "to be ungallant. Miss Wilcox, then, if you are not engaged for the first set-"

"Engaged! Not at all!" the lady cried out eagerly. "I shall be delighted, Mr Bertram, quite delighted. To lose Mr Harding as a partner must not be such a hardship, since I find myself now partnered with _you_."

Mr Bertram looked trapped; but I did not pity him in the slightest. He deserved to find himself in the position of attempting- unsuccessfully – to fend off ladies' attempts to get him to dance. What good is a young and single man to an assembly if he refuses to dance?

Miss Wilcox, her prey now secured, ran off to giggle with her friends, while Caroline and I went to join the gentlemen.

"Do you disapprove of dancing, Mr Bertram?" I asked.

"I would rather enjoy insightful conversation," he replied.

"Indeed, one cannot talk while dancing."

"One can, but this atmosphere, full of levity, allows people to get away with empty pleasantries and trivial talks that would make them blush otherwise. One cannot expect sensible company or sensible talk at an assembly."

Caroline joined the fray:

"But you do love music- it should follow that you must love dancing."

"I do enjoy fencing," Mr Bertram retorted, "yet I am in no hurry to fight a duel."

I was surprised, and interested in spite of myself. Fencing was an aristocratic sport; I always felt that it must be quite elegant- and I could not picture bookish Mr Bertram with a sword.

"Yet you would fight," Mr Harding teased, "and at a moment's notice, to defend your family's honour."

In a wry tone, Mr Bertram said that it was quite unnecessary:

"Before the news of the slight could even reach me, Cassandra would have intervened. The miscreants left to my sister's tender mercies would soon yearn for my blade."

"You should not say this publicly," Caroline cried out, "or Juliet will believe that your sister is merciless, and she is not so- indeed; she is very kind!"

For the first time, he looked startled:

"She is very kind to those she holds dear, which is why she does not take kindly to offenses committed against them."

"We have strayed from our subject," Mr Harding said. "Bertram was attempting to justify why he would not dance, when dancing is the sole purpose of an assembly!"

"Indeed; but what is the purpose of dancing?" Mr Bertram asked with a quirk of his lips.

"Why, one is required to make oneself agreeable to one's partner; to please and to entertain; and in this light I understand your reluctance to dance, Mr Bertram," I said.

"I was referring," Mr Bertram went on, "to the ridiculous idea that dancing with complete strangers promotes a better acquaintance. Everybody attending shall watch who dances with whom; and conjecture, and gossip. I do not understand how sharing a dance, to onlookers, might be seen as an acceptable basis for courting. No sensible conversation to be had, both parties only seeking to please, and their heads turning all the while!"

"One can enjoy a dance," Caroline said with a blush, "without any afterthoughts."

"Deny it as you wish, but if you are to dance two sets with the same partner, how tongues will wag!"

"Oh, but I would not- I would not like it at all!" Caroline cried in distress.

"Bertram, please be quiet! Miss Caroline, do not listen to your cousin- he is a cantankerous man. I hope that you shall not be deterred from dancing a second set with me tonight; my enjoyment could not be complete if I should satisfy myself with a meagre set," Mr Harding said warmly.

Caroline blushed some more, but very prettily (ah! to be blessed with this kind of complexion), and agreed to a second set.

Mr Harding was all smiles, and Caroline mirrored them.

"Some ladies," Mr Bertram added darkly, "are adamant that they should find a partner, however unwilling he is, or however little-acquainted they are. If Harding," he cast a baleful eye at his friend, "had not been otherwise engaged, Miss Wilcox would have left me well alone."

"Well, if some ladies failed to get such a true gentleman as Mr Harding as their partner, one can understand how they might settle for lesser prizes," I smiled.

The lesser prize glared at me:

"Is that not what _you_ would do yourself?"

I gave an affected little laugh:

"Oh, Mr Bertram. You are quite safe from _me_. I would not settle for anything less than my due."

Caroline and I were then called away by Aunt Jane. Mrs Pratt was very keen to introduce her nephew, a Mr Richard Pratt, a stout young man overflowing with compliments:

"Such a fine family of young ladies! How gracious, how refined- he was quite overcome. If he may be so bold as to beg the pleasure of the first set, Miss Bingley?"

"I am afraid that my sister and I are engaged for the next sets, Mr Pratt," Cousin Eliza said, but- with a malicious glance at me- "you are in luck, as nobody has secured Miss Carteret's hand yet. It would be a shame if she was forced to sit this dance out."

Secured, indeed! Had I but know that I would be thus besieged, I would have sooner secured even Mr Bertram's hand myself; for Mr Pratt did not look, or speak, as a gentleman. Alas! I could not refuse him: otherwise I would have been expected to remain seated the whole evening.

"It would be a shame indeed! No, he would not let the charming Miss Carteret- such a delicate flower- waste its fragrance on the desert air-" and thus I was led away.

Oh, the indignity! Mr Pratt was gauche in his manners, entirely devoid of address, and I could not even commend him for his lightness of foot, since mine were several times trodden upon.

It is a pity that forbearance is a virtue, for I could barely muster it. Sniggers and amused looks were thrown our way- Eliza smirked- Caroline, when she could remember me in the midst of her smiles at her much more pleasant partner, sent me compassionate looks.

My cheeks were aflame- with shame, humiliation, and anger- all those at once- I must have been redder than a scarlet coat- and to know that I, the innocent, respectable, dignified-looking party, would be sneered at alongside the likes of Mr Pratt!

What a way to begin the evening- I could not leave until the end- at last, at last, the set ended, I bowed curtly and left the odious man's company, eager to find a corner where I could hide, let my cheeks cool and escape mocking eyes.

Who would invite me now, after such an exhibition, even if it was not one of my own making?

I could not stand it- and I was lost in somber ruminations, when I spied Henry. He looked forlorn and desolate, glancing every now and then at the young lady in yellow who was now dancing with Mr Harding after having caught Mr Bertram for the first set. This was the very same Miss Wilcox whose hand he had secured for the first dance, I realized; until she had raised her eyes to higher prizes. His disappointed face said it all. Poor Henry! We were both wasting the evening away.

A sudden rush of indignation came to me. Why should we let a Mr Pratt and a Miss Wilcox spoil our enjoyment? Why should we suffer from lingering mortification and risk to catch a cold in a secluded, drafty corner?

I went to him. He tried to look brave and asked me why I was not dancing.

"I will dance the next set- with you, if you actually ask me," I said pointedly.

He looked at once bewildered and gratified, which was a pleasing expression to inspire, and something of a novelty to me.

"Will you do me the honor of the next dance, Cousin Juliet?" he asked very properly.

"Indeed I will, Cousin Henry;" and as he took my hand, still a bit hesitant, I whispered:

"Head held high, if you please, or I shall think you disappointed with your partner."

He instantly corrected his stance, and brightened when I smiled encouragingly at him.

I found him to be a creditable partner, who did not trod once on my feet, knew all the steps and danced with remarkable energy. We attracted a few stares- but I ignored them superbly. Those people were nothing to me, and my partner gave me no reason to blush.

My Aunt and my Uncle looked genuinely pleased with me, Henry could not suppress his joy, and I danced with more enjoyment than I had ever felt. Now, Miss Wilcox could giggle and whisper loudly: "Poor Miss Carteret! This was the only partner that would have _her_ ", and Lord Osborne gawk at us (well, there went my first impression), and Mr Bertram give long stares with those unsettling grey eyes of his…

Stare at me all you like. I am a Carteret – and so is Henry, by his connection to _me;_ and nobody puts a Carteret in a corner.

* * *

 _-as usual, feedback makes this author happy..._


End file.
